


A Mean Look To Him

by cmshaw



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-25
Updated: 2008-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmshaw/pseuds/cmshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matches starts unbuckling his pants with his other hand. "Double or nothing, kid. What's it gonna be?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mean Look To Him

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the porn_battle prompt: "DC comics, Bruce Wayne/Tim Drake, double agent".

The brat is undersized, sure, but he has a mean look to him that Matches can appreciate. And his goods sound reliable: "So they're hitting the docks tomorrow night around 8, somewhere between A-5 and A-15," the kid says. "An' that's all I got, so pay up. I gotta go."

Matches flips a folded bill between his fingers. "You know an awful lot for a kid running lookout," he says.

"I got an entrepreneurial spirit," the kid says with a scowl. "An' if you think I'm gonna make shit up for a lousy fifty when you know my face you're a lot stupider than you are."

"How about two fifties?" Matches says. He bites down on the end of his match and flips another folded bill out. "A blowjob puts me in a much more believing state of mind."

"That ain't my line of work," the kid says, but his eyes are following Matches' hand.

Matches wets his lips. "I'd pay a lot more than fifty if I thought you knew how to give a _good_ blowjob," he says. "I bet you'd clean up nice and pretty."

The kid shifts from foot to foot. "You gonna pay me or what?"

Matches starts unbuckling his pants with his other hand. "Double or nothing, kid. What's it gonna be?"

The kid wavers. "Jesus, you're a fucking asshole," he mutters, dropping to one knee. "You'd better fucking pay after this."

"You know I'm good for it. That's why you came to me, yeah?" He rubs the kid's head and pushes him away again long enough to get his zipper down and shove everything out of the way of his dick.

The kid wrinkles up his nose. "You always get a hard-on spending money?"

"Oh, it gets a lot harder than this," Matches tells him. "Open up that little mouth for me now." He cups the kid's face, money brushing his cheek, and pulls the kid's lower lip down with his thumb. "There you go," he says as the kid's jaw drops open, and he feeds the head of his dick in with his other hand.

Somehow the kid's managing to make his sucking feel resentful; Matches likes this one. He catches the bottom of Matches' dick on his teeth, once, and immediately yanks his jaw open wider and sucks harder, obviously trying to make up for it. Matches feeds him dick until it won't fit into his mouth, but the kid's already gagging and choking on his own spit. His eyes are big and shiny and fucking angry, like he's going to remember this until he finds a way to make Matches pay for every inch that's sliding past his lips. Matches bites down on his match until the end of it snaps against his tongue. He's had a taste for boys with a fighting spirit ever since the last one and he's grunting now, jacking the base of his dick hard with one hand and holding the kid's jaw still with the other so the kid can't pull back while Matches comes in his mouth.

"Oh, there you go," Matches breathes. "There you go." Each stroke of his hand to leave more spots of come on the kid's lips is blissful. The kid's face is getting redder and redder, and as soon as Matches lets go of him he twists sideways and goes down on his hands and knees, spitting. Matches sighs and pulls his pants back up, wiping his dick with one hand and scrubbing that off on the side of his pants. The kid is still spitting and trying to rub his face clean with his hands. "Hey," Matches says. He hands him the money. "You're a pretty fast learner, kid. Guess I believe you got the shipping schedule on your own. Nice work."

The kid's just now realizing he's just wiped come all over the money. In a second he's going to notice that the bills Matches gave him were hundreds, not fifties, and Matches is willing to bet he's going to be even more pissed off. Whistling, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and saunters out.

There's a small chiming noise, and then a voice in his ear says, "That is not what we agreed on."

Matches flicks his broken match into a dumpster and sets a new one between his teeth. His lips aren't moving at all, but another voice says, "Mission parameters allowed it. You could have been more specific."

There's a fluttering overheard like an extremely large pigeon, but Matches is from Gotham, where you don't look up in case the Bat's looking back down. He chews meditatively on his match and smiles instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at <http://asylums.insanejournal.com/porn_battle/3785.html?thread=366281#t366281>.


End file.
